New Truck, from Jacob
by AmandaRae
Summary: From Jacob's perspective - Before Bella. One-shot about how Charlie picked up Bella's truck. K rating. First time writing fan fiction, but better than average. Short and cute.


I DO NOT OWN ANY PART OF THE TWILIGHT SERIES.

This is including the stupendous Jacob Black. 

(Thanks for reminding me. . . )

- JACOB BLACK -

"Jacob?" I heard my dad call from the house.

"I'm in the garage dad, be right out," I shouted back, sighing as I set down a carbarater. I was so close to being done cleaning it, but I suppose I'd have to finish it later.

I looked at the clock and realized that it was my night to make dinner. I was running twenty minutes behind already. Crap.

I set the metal piece down on an oil ridden cloth and grabbed a clean one to wipe my grease encrusted hands with before all but sprinting to the house. I hated it when I forgot about this kind of stuff. My dad had enough to deal with at the moment, he had been spending a lot of time with the tribe recently. I didn't know about what. Didn't really care, either. They were a bunch of superstitious old men, in my opinion. Oh, and one not-so-old Sam Uley. Whatever they did at their silly meetings was probably not important.

I arrived at the back door, stuffing one end of the now dirty rag into my back pocket.

"Sorry, Dad. I totally lost track of time. What do you--"

"It's not about dinner, Jake, don't worry," he interrupted. "We have a visitor."

"A what?" I countered, confused. Visitors? I thought Quil and Embry were coming over later. I shrugged my way through our sliding glass back door.

Walking into our tiny, cramped living room, I saw Charlie Swan standing with a large grin on his face. Oh, it was just Charlie. My dad's best friend was around here pretty regularly, though in the past few weeks this hadn't been the case. Something about work, or family or some such.

"Hey, Jake! Goodness, you just get bigger and bigger, dontcha?" Charlie asked cheerfully. He was right, I supposed. Everyone had been commenting on how tall I had been getting. I guess I was bigger than any normal fifteen year old. I heard my dad chuckle, and a proud grin spread across his dark skinned face.

"Hey, Charlie, back so soon?" I teased. "It's been a while. What's new?"

"Well, I was just telling your dad here about my exciting news. You remember my daughter, Bella? She's been here once or twice for a couple of summers," he smiled broadly. The smile of a father remembering memories with his children.

"Oh sure, sure. 'Course I do," I said. There were pictures of us together. She was the clumsy brunette girl, the only one who had fallen out of the rowboat we had rented a few years ago. She was pretty cute. . . and as I remembered some years older than me. . .

"Well, Renee called about two weeks back I guess, and it seems my Bells missed her silly ol' father!" he smiled and chuckled, obviously ecstatic with the news. "Bella is going to be moving in with me!"

Hm. I supposed I could get used to that idea. We had always gotten along, after all. Maybe she would want to hang out. Anyway, I was probably her only friend around here, now that my sister's had moved away. Maybe Seth and Leah Clearwater, but I doubted that she knew them very well. Leah was older, and a bit stuck up and Seth was even younger than I was. I pictured Bella around the garage with me, us talking on the coastline not far from here. I tried to remember how many years older she was than me. . . Couldn't have been that much. . .

"-- that great! And she arrives next Tuesday," Charlie's continuing voice interrupted my thoughts. "I had just been talking to your dad about cars I could possibly give her. As a gift, you know. She's going to need transportation. He said you had one you might not want to keep...?" he hinted hopefully. That's right, I remembered suddenly, she had been fifteen when she last visited two years ago. Seventeen. Two years. Not bad.

My heart sank just slightly. I had been hoping to keep the red truck a little bit longer, just to -- _to what?_ my interrupting thought butted in. _Tinker around with it endlessly?_ Ugh. Good point. Nothing could really be done to make it go any faster. It was too old, and it had lived a fast life before surrendering to a maximum of fifty five. I sighed, and decided to abandon my hopeless dream to a good cause. A free car seemed enough of a reason to be friends…

"Oh yeah, sure thing Charlie. Here, it's around this way," I stalked out the front door, hearing Charlie push my dad's wheelchair along behind me. We walked around the side of the house to the grassy side yard where the red truck had sat stationary for a few months. The large bed was covered with a blue tarp to keep the rainwater out.

"Huh," Charlie said. Not impressed, but not necessarily disappointed. "And it runs?"

"Absolutely," I stated confidently. Time to prove my mechanic skills. "I did some repairs on it. Wouldn't even start when I got it. It doesn't get much over about fifty-five, but it'll go for miles at that speed. It's a good truck, lot's of personality. As long as she doesn't push it too hard it'll live strong for as long as she'd like," I was pleased with myself, and made sure to show it before blurting out, "Oh, new tires, too."

Charlie smiled and whipped out his checkbook.

"Sold. How much, son?"

I was taken aback. I had never dreamed that anyone would ever pay me for any work I ever did on anything. Engines included.

"No, no, Charlie. This one's on me," I spluttered. I would never stop myself from feeling guilty if I had him pay me. I had only bought it for two hundred in the first place; it was wrong to ask any amount for this ancient vehicle.

"Are you sure? It's definitely not a problem, Jake, I'm just glad you're even selling it to me. I'll give you whatever you want, just --"

"I insist, Charlie. After all you've done for out family?" I scoffed. "No way. It's yours. Tell Bella I said hello," I smiled warmly, before removing the key from my pocket and placing it in his palm.

"Well, thanks a heap, Jake. I certainly will. She'll appreciate it, I promise,"

"Sure thing, Charlie. Gives me an excuse to visit from now on," I chuckled lightly. I thought about the real reason I would visit, and smiled secretively to myself. Isabella Swan. . . Two years wasn't a big difference. Not a big difference at all.


End file.
